The struggle, the fight, the ongoing healing journey in mind, body, and spirit — all of these involve striving. And they often don’t involve ease.

Sense a flinch? The word’s landed itself on the semantic blacklist — no striving, ease, and choose what’s easy have replaced Tennyson’s exhortation: “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” A leaning back to Sheryl Sandberg’s leaning in.

This relatively new concept — the push toward ease — has indoctrinated itself deeply enough within me that I paused before purchasing the Oh My Deer print pictured above, which reads: “I am seeking. I am striving. I am in it with all of my heart.” (Vincent van Gogh) I keep it above my bed, next to a print that says, “Do what matters. Forget the rest.”

Strive is derived from Middle English, with ties to the word strife; it means, according to the OED, “(v.) Make great efforts to achieve something; struggle or fight vigorously.”

Great efforts. Struggle. Fight.

“What would your life be like if you only did what was easy?” — Danielle LaPorte, The Firestarter Sessions

The conversation around striving popped onto my radar with Danielle LaPorte’s Metrics of Ease, from her (initially) self-published multimedia project, The Firestarter Sessions.

To be clear, LaPorte’s explanation of what ease entails does not refer to eating bon-bons on the couch. She speaks of doing what comes naturally, including your creative genius; she encourages an elegant, productive, simple life that doesn’t feel like a struggle.

As with most things, I encourage moderation. I believe that almost everything has its time — including the act of striving.*

Those who have followed me for years may recall a period in which I named my domains and sites after the word enitens — a Latin word that, roughly translated, means “trying harder every day.”

It is also true that my self-esteem plummeted down the Mariana Trench last year. After being told that my mind was irreparably damaged, with no hope save for acceptance of never coming close to my original, magnificently flawed self again, I forgot that I could do, or be, anything of consequence; my sense of worthiness dropped in direct proportion to the pile-up of diagnoses and new symptoms. It was suggested to me by a disability insurance representative, helpfully, that there was always a job opportunity at McDonald’s. By the end of 2013, I felt as though I had aged by half a decade — and had aged without grace, or a core self to hold onto.

“You see, we’ve always been on a journey, like it or not, aware of it or not, struggling to enter and embrace things as they are.” — Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk

Striving, like everything else, can be overdone. But by 2014, it was necessary for me to strive; if I didn’t commit to a struggle, my spirit would die beneath the onerous mantle of Eternally Sick & Damaged.

Recognizing that I needed to fight was the first step in healing myself. I responded to the call by signing up for a self-defense class based on actual, full-force combat.

From March 7-9, I took a three-day, 24-hourlong self-defense intensive. For those three days, I engaged in actual fights over and over again with men much larger and stronger than myself. I learned to yell; I learned how to strike, and when. Though I’ll be writing about the experience in a future Chronicle (tentative title: “I Kicked My Rapist’s Ass — 14 Years Later”), what matters here is the manner in which I fought.

In our final circle, a fellow student told me something like this: “Out there, in those fights — you fight like crazy. You’re like a coiled spring as you wait for the danger to strike, and then you fight tooth and nail. You look like you’re fighting for your life — like you believe that your life is worth protecting. I hope that you know that. I hope that you know that, because your body knows that.”

The struggle, the fight, the ongoing healing journey in mind, body, and spirit — all of these involve striving. And they often don’t involve ease.

I strive with all of my heart because right now, that’s what I need to do.

Perhaps you, too, are in a position where you need to strive.

You need to break out of an addiction.

You need to get out of a relationship that is no longer, or never was, a good situation for you.

You need to claw your way out of a pit of hopelessness, and emerge into the light.

Post navigation

Oh, I loved this. I bought a piece on Etsy from this shop https://www.etsy.com/shop/PrettyGrittyThings , which is run by a wonderful soul. The piece hangs over my bed and has the word amazing spelled out in playing cards. It reminds me that it isn’t a thing or a place that I am trying to reach, it is in trusting that each moment is amazing.

When have I had to strive? The truth for me is that most days I have to strive to outrun my doubt. Some days it is effortless, other days it feels like ice climbing without equipment.

Oof, I love that: “striving to outrun my doubt.” I feel that way often, lately. What happened to the bombastic woman filled with bravado and chutzpah? And yet that’s what happens, sometimes, when we (I) get knocked down again & again. The doubt creeps in. The questioning of who-am-I-to-even-think-I-could.

Does outrunning your doubt look like an entirely mental endeavor, or is there other stuff that you do?

For me, it’s mostly trying to look the other way. I’m not sure it’s particularly effective.

About Esmé

Esmé Weijun Wang is an award-winning writer and advocate. At The Unexpected Shape, she provides resources that assist ambitious people who live with limitations, allowing them to develop both resilience and mastery on the path to building a legacy. Her debut novel, The Border of Paradise, is now available for purchase.

If you’ve enjoyed and find value in the free work that I do, whether it’s through the Encouragement Notes, the ad-free Journal, my social media presence, or something else, and would like to help ensure that the work continues, please consider making a donation.

I'd love to stay in touch with you

For from-the-heart letters about life, resilience, and creativity, sign up for With Love & Squalor.

Each letter also contains links to terrific writing from around the web, a collection of Five [Extraordinary] Words, and occasional discounts and previews of upcoming works and creations. Signing up will also nab you the Productivity Journaling with Limitations e-book, a powerful tool to help you dive into analogue planning while living with limitations.